Xmen Warriors
by TeslaJet
Summary: Two years after the Apocalypse incident the Xmen are scattered by an attack by the Friends of Humanity. Now, five years after the attack, tensions between mutants and humans are worse than ever. As high tech and mutant enemies close in, an MRD officer gets a radical idea. He recruits Cyclops to start a team to do the impossible, and restore the peace.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not in any way own the X men, Marvel, or any of the X men spinoffs._

Prologue: Arrest

At two A.M. all was peaceful at the Xavier mansion. Not one of the adults or even the normally rambunctious New X men was awake.

The sky was cloudless. Stars shone beside a full moon. A warm breeze blew through the grounds, carrying with it the sounds of chirping crickets and the scents of summer. Nothing indicated that the X men were already about to face their next struggle.

Five thousand feet above the ocean, a B-1B Lancer bomber flew towards its objective. Its cargo, a NonNuclear ElectroMagnetic Pulse device. Its target, the Xavier Institute.

The aircraft arrowed over the bay and released its payload. The EMP device fell, guided by a targeting laser emanating from the bomber towards the Institute. Five hundred feet above the ground the EMP activated, sending a rapidly expanding magnetic field over the mansion's grounds. The field invaded every electronic device, sending a large electric current through their components, permanently ruining them. Cell phones, computers, mansion defenses, Cerebro, all succumbed to the blast.

The first stage of the plan was complete. The second began as the paramilitary operatives who had been waiting aboard helicopters flew in.

Logan was in the middle of a nightmare. The scene was all too dreadfully familiar. He was inside a large tube filled with green liquid. Dozens of metal probes inserted themselves into his skin. Some carried sedative, others were delivering molten adamantium into the Wolverine's body. It was agony. No experience could ever equal its terrible pain…

Logan jolted up, claws outstretched, gasping. For a few minutes he sat in bed, panting, as the after effects of the dream wore off. He looked around and noticed his alarm clock wasn't working. The LED display was completely black. He frowned and reached behind his desk to plug it back in. His frown deepened as he found the outlet with the cord still plugged in. He looked back at the alarm clock, noticing for the first time the smell of solder in the air, along with something else. He sniffed, and determined the source was the alarm clock. With one claw he slit the top off the thing and looked inside.

The electronics were unmistakably fried. Solder had run all over the circuit board, and parts of it were blackened. Some of the parts looked like they had exploded. Wolverine set it down in disgust. He then noticed a similar smell of burned electronics coming from his cellphone. And there was something else, something that smelled like… electricity? Yes, like a bolt of lightning had hit nearby, but fainter, and with no obvious damage.

Logan ran through a mental list of things that could have done this. Only two possibilities came up: either Berserker, or an EMP.

EMP? Could it be that? There was no way Berserker was in any shape to pull something off like this, not with such a strong stench of electricity in the air. It could only be an EMP. And if that was what it was, then someone wanted something in the mansion very badly, and had just played their first card.

Logan's musing was interrupted by noises on the roof. Intruders, and lots of them. Logan quickly got back into bed and started snoring loudly. Through his faux sleep, Logan sensed two people stop at his window and somehow dissolve it. The intruders then stepped inside and, without further ado, fired a dart straight into Logan's neck. The dart's sedative was quickly neutralized by his healing factor. Logan heard one of them say "Target sedated, moving on to next objective"

Logan waited until they drew closer, then burst from his bed with a roar, claws outstretched. The two intruders, taken by surprise, stumbled backwards as Logan sliced their guns to pieces. Two well aimed blows then sent both of them to the floor unconscious.

Having knocked them out, Wolverine took a moment to study the intruders. They were dressed in uniforms and Kevlar body armor, with ammo packs and other military paraphernalia strapped on them. Three letters were marked on their shoulder pads: FOH.

Logan's examination was interrupted by a growling voice coming from one of the intruder's headsets saying "…happened? Hawk team, reply!"

Wolverine rushed to his window and scanned the grounds. Not a thing was moving, but there were noises coming from the mansion roof. Muffled noises, which no regular mutant could have heard, told of men stealthily repelling from the roof and entering through the windows. Judging from the direction of the sounds, most were breaking into…the students wing.

Wolverine sprinted out of his room and down the hall to the foyer. His claws were out and a snarl was on his lips. They had tried to sedate him. If they were doing the same to the others, it meant they were trying to capture the X men. If they weren't…. A ball of fear dropped into his stomach and if at all possible he poured more speed into his running.

He reached the foyer to discover four more of the intruders standing there, possibly to investigate their comrades loss. One of them yelled a warning and four darts sped towards the oncoming mutant. Wolverine staggered as his vision swam momentarily, but he didn't stop running. He hit the first intruder like a cannon ball, ramming him off his feet. As wolverine crashed to the ground the darts' toxin cleared and swept his limbs out, sweeping another two off their feet. Leaping to his feet he kicked the two he had just tripped in the head, then blocked a blow from the third, who had also risen. A dart whizzed past Wolverine's cheek, shot by the fourth intruder. Logan grabbed the arm of the third, who had just punched again, and yanked. His off balance opponent was pulled forward until Wolverine kicked him in the knee. At the same time he wrested the dart rifle from his opponents grasped, aimed, and fired. The man's screams of pain were cut off as the darts' sedative knocked him out. Wolverine turned to the fourth man and fired three rounds. At least one hit its mark and the man sank to the ground.

Gripping the rifle, Wolverine resumed running towards the boys' wing. As he reached the front of the hall, one of the doors was blown off its hinges by a bright red beam. Two intruders followed the door into the wall. A moment later Scott Summers cautiously emerged from the doorway.

"Logan!" he said, spotting his combat mentor. "What's going…"

"Duck now!" Wolverine shouted. Cyclops hit the dirt as a volley of darts flew over him. Wolverine emptied the clip of his rifle into the men further down the hallway. They all sank to the ground as the darts' drug took its toll.

From then on there was no time for words, only combat. Cyclops turned and fired his optic blast as more intruders emerged. The door across from him opened and two more men came out, and Cyclops ducked as the one in front tried to tag him with a dart. A split second later he was hit by Wolverine's rifle. Cyclops blasted the one behind back into the room and into a wall.

Wolverine and Cyclops backed back into the foyer as more intruders flooded the hallway. Using hands, claws, optic blasts, and stolen rifles they desperately tried to stem the tide of intruders. It wasn't easy. Their foes were as numerous as they were trained. In the end, however, the X men prevailed.

Wolverine straightened. Unconscious bodies littered the hallway they had come out of. Cyclops put a hand on the wall and leaned on it, panting.

"Who are these guys? What do they want? And why didn't the mansion defenses take them out?"

"EMP took care of the defenses" Wolverine replied. "As for who they are, look at them"

Scott examined one of the unconscious bodies. "FOH?" he asked.

Wolverine shrugged, then stiffened when he heard the noise of guns being cocked behind him. He turned.

What looked like twenty more intruders stood on the other side of the foyer, guns aimed at the two mutants. One the ground between them was a very familiar man holding a pistol to an unconscious Xavier's head.

"Surrender mutants" Bolivar Trask coldly ordered as he held Xavier.

Cyclops put his hands up. Wolverine snarled, trying to see any way out of this. But there was none. Trask put his finger on the trigger.

Reluctantly, hating Trask through every moment of the action, Wolverine sheathed his claws and raised his arms.

Trask smiled, and ordered "Take them"

Trask's goons started forward. Wolverine growled as they approached, then stiffened as he saw Xavier start to stir. Trask saw it too, and pulled the trigger.

The bang echoed around the room. Cyclops stood where he was, completely stunned. Wolverine couldn't believe it. The man had gotten his surrender, and then killed his prisoner anyways. Fury, volcanic berserker fury welled up inside him. His claws came out and he lunged forward, roaring. The claws slashed through the first goon's armor as if it was paper. The goon crumpled to the floor.

As soon as their compatriot hit the floor, the rest of the FOH soldiers opened fire. No less than fifteen darts hit the enraged mutant, and his healing factor was overwhelmed. He staggered to the floor, then fell backwards. Looking back, he saw Cyclops, still standing there, shocked. "Run!" he slurred.

The last thing he saw was Summers doing exactly that.


	2. Capture

_Starbucks, Cambridge, Massachusetts_

Allen Rogers stared moodily at the cup of coffee in front of him. A student at Harvard University for nearly five years, he was close to graduating with a double degree. Five years ago he would have been jubilant, as would have everyone he knew. But that had been five years ago. This was now, and now, nobody cared about Allen but Allen himself.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his brown hair, careful not to disturb the red sunglasses that he always wore. His gaze swept the Starbucks he was in. It was an average establishment, with tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. A TV screen hung in the corner of the store, with small speakers mounted nearby it. Currently it was displaying an advertisement for Cryptech, the newest sensation in the business world.

It was incredible. They had started off as some tiny tech company from who knew where, now they were the largest tech company in the world, with branches all over the continents. They were even moving into other businesses, such as their new security branch, whose advertisement was being played even now.

Allen snorted bitterly. Cryptech hadn't been there to help five years ago. He stopped himself. It was no good reminiscing about the past. What happened had happened, and he had to move on. That was what the Professor's message had said.

It was hard to though. Everything had seemed to sour five years ago, and not just Allen's situation. Five years ago had been when the FOH had made their first major attack. Since then chapters of the organization had been established all over the country. Every day their persecution grew worse, forcing mutants to go into hiding. Well, some. Others had fought back, some even going on rampages beyond just the FOH, hence the newest organization to grace the country, the MRD.

Then there were the Apocalypse Cults. Formed seven years ago, the terrorist groups claimed to be followers of the mutant Apocalypse. Most were relatively minor in their capacity, but some were truly dangerous. Just ask the late president, who had been killed three years ago in an attack by an Apocalypse Cult.

On top of it all there were rumors, whisperings of a man called Sinister, whom no mutant was safe from.

Yes, it was a very bad time to be a mutant. Not that it was a good time to be human, caught between the escalating human-mutant tensions. Those who helped hide mutants and tolerated them Allen did feel pity for.

Allen finished his coffee and was about to leave when the door opened. In strode a group of men who practically oozed confidence. All of them brandished pistols and shotguns of some kind, and all of them wore some kind of uniform with the letters FOH sewn in. Leading them was a man Allen recognized as Randy Thomas, his academic rival and the bully who had had his butt handed to him by Allen a week ago. So apparently this was his revenge, convincing the local chapter of the FOH that Allen was a mutant. It didn't take much to convince them, Allen knew.

Randy stopped and scanned the establishment, searching, before his eyes alighted on Allen. His face split with a grin worthy of a jack o lantern, and pointed at Allen.

"That's him" he said to FOH members. They sighted in on Allen like a pack of jackals on their prey. They tromped closer, ostentatiously showing off their armaments. Some were grinning, no doubt ready to abuse their target. Others were glaring at him with hate filled expressions. The one in front stopped when he reached the table.

"So" the front one said, evidently the leader, "We hear you're a mutant. Is that true?"

"No" Allen said, lying. He was not about to have his disguise foiled by some wannabe thugs, after five years of hiding.

"Oh really" the leader said grinning. "Well then you won't mind if I take those shades off you" He reached forward.

Allen's heart sank. All one had to do was remove his glasses to see that he was mutant. He batted the hand away. "I do mind actually" he said calmly.

The leader's face contorted with rage. Apparently the very touch of a mutant was repulsive to him. "Take them off!" he snarled.

"Oi! Leave him alone" a new voice demanded.

Allen and all the thugs turned to see this newest participant in the confrontation. One of the Starbucks employees had come out from behind the counter and was now glaring at the FOH members. Allen estimated him to be a few inches shorter than himself, with dark, ginger hair gelled a little messily into spikes. The newcomer was also pale, which contrasted all the more with his sunglasses, with broad shoulders and a rather lean physique. In one hand he held what Allen recognized as a bo staff.

The leader of the goons growled out "A mutie sympathizer huh?" He walked over to the employee, his hand gripping his pistol tightly. The newcomer stood his ground. He must either be brave, Allen thought, or foolish to do that. Allen was hoping it was bravery.

"You and your bunch are worse than their kind. You would have us kiss their feet while they stomp us into the ground you little puke!" By the end of his last utterance the leader was shouting. He then stopped, and an ugly smile came to his face. "Or are you a mutant too?" he said, suddenly calm. He looked the employee straight in the face and ordered "Take those specs off"

"Why?" the employee replied calmly.

The leader grew angry again, and chambered a round into his weapon.

The employee hurriedly whipped his sunglasses off. Allen caught the faintest glimpse of hazel eyes before the irises turned bright red.

The FOH gang leader yelled and stumbled backwards into his friends. He dropped his pistol and whimpered, shaking all over. "Noooo" he moaned, eyes wide with fear. "Noooo, no, no, no!"

Something caught Allen's eye. He looked a little farther up and, surprised, saw an upside down red pentagram branded onto the man's forehead. Allen's eyes widened. Mutant or not, that was downright unnerving.

The other goons immediately went for their guns. Allen paused, conflicted for the briefest moment, before lifting his own shades. A red beam of concussive energy, confined for so long, leapt from his eyes and crashed into the FOH squad, lifting them and sending them hurtling backwards into the tables. Some were knocked out. Others weren't, and tried to bring their guns up. These were dispatched by Scott Summers, alias Allen Rogers, in short controlled bursts of optical beam.

Scott sighed as he looked around. He'd done it now. Exposed himself as a mutant. Hopefully no one would know of his status as a former X man.

He looked around. Most of the patrons were too shocked to do anything. The rest were cowering. The exceptions were the manager, who dived when Scott turned his gaze on him, and the bo staff wielding employee, who looked at him in amazement and…joy.

Scott yelled as the world started spinning around him. He clumsily fell backwards, cracking his head on the window. He flailed his limbs, desperately trying to find a surface that was not moving. He was vaguely aware of the employee, who rushed over and held Scott's head still. Scott looked into his eyes, and the world stopped spinning.

"Sorry about that" the employee told him, still in awe of him. "Are you Scott Summers?" he asked in a rush.

"Shhh!" Scott hissed, regaining his stance. He looked around at the mess he had inadvertently caused with his eye blasts, then turned around and headed for the door.

The employee followed him asking "You are Scott Summers then?"

Scott considered. He had just put his powers on display for the world to see. There was probably no chance of him covering this up, so no harm would be done by telling one of the witnesses.

"Yes, I am" he said in a low voice. "Now come with me before the MRD gets here"

They both ran out the door and into the street. Scott took a left, and the mutant followed. He spared a second to look around, then took off down the sidewalk.

They both ran for two blocks, then ducked behind a dumpster in an alleyway. There they sat, and waited for their chance to emerge. Scott looked to his new companion, who had put his sunglasses back on.

"What's your name?" Scott asked.

"Gavin. Gavin McDonald" the other mutant replied. Scott recognized a slight Scottish accent in his voice.

"How did you know my name?" Scott asked. It would not do to have someone bandying about his name.

Gavin snorted. "Every mutant knows about the X men, and there's only one X man who has eyebeams"

Scott put a hand to his forehead. "Ugh, I might as well have screamed to the world who I am"

The Starbucks manager looked up as another man entered the establishment. "Samantha, handle this one" he ordered, then returned to cursing the mutants who had made a mess of his shop.

"No" The voice was flat, almost mechanical sounding. The manager looked up, just in time to see his newest patron grab him and lift him into the air with one arm. The manager's eyes grew wide as he took in this newest mutant.

"Where did the mutants go?" the mutant asked.

"Out and left" the manager choked out.

The mutant nodded. He flicked his fore arm, and a blade as long as said forearm popped out. The mutant then ran the manager through and tossed him to the ground.

"So you're from Scotland?" Scott asked.

"Yes" Gavin replied.

"Why come here?"

"To escape the prejudice. Half of Scotland is convinced that I'm a wandering evil fairy"

Scott snorted. "Sorry to hear that" he said.

"Well, it's not like the U.S. is free of it. But at least there was Xavier" His shoulders slumped. He then looked at Scott and asked "What happened that night"

Scott heaved a heavy sigh. "The Friends of Humanity attacked. So far as I know, everyone was captured but me…and Xavier"

"Xavier's free?" Gavin asked hopefully.

"No. He's dead" Scott said softly.

Gavin looked stricken. He looked at Scott, as if looking for a sign that he was kidding and found none. He looked to the ground, dejected. Scott straightened as he heard sirens, then relaxed as they passed by. He got up and held out a hand to Gavin. The younger man didn't take it.

"Did you know Xavier?" Scott asked softly.

Gavin looked at him. "I thought, if I found him, I could be an X man. I thought everything would be fine…" he trailed off, and looked down.

"Come on" Scott said "While the MRD is distracted"

Gavin took Scott's hand and pulled himself upright. Gavin then followed the older man out of the alleyway…and straight into the scariest man he had ever seen.

At first he didn't look so threatening. Aside from his musculature there was nothing to set him apart from any other man one would meet on the street. But his face was what was frightening. It was totally devoid of emotion. It looked as if his soul had been sucked out of him.

The man stood in front of the alleyway, obviously confronting them. Scott stopped and put a hand to his glasses. "What do you want?" he demanded.

The man proceeded to sucker punch him. "You" he replied flatly.

Gavin's staff cracked across his face in a blow that should have knocked him out. Instead, it only drew the man's attention to him. He punched, and Gavin slapped the fist aside with his staff. He then launched a furious barrage of disciplined blows at the man, who didn't so much as blink at the barrage.

The man's next blow smashed into Gavin's staff, breaking it into two pieces. Gavin backpedaled, trying to take his glasses off, but the man hit him over the head, knocking him out.

An optical blast hit him in the chest and drove him across the street and through a window.

Amazingly, the man seemed to be unaffected by the blast. He jumped out of the wrecked shop front and ran across the street, faster than any normal man could possibly run. Scott shot another shot, but this time his target was ready for it. A blade swung out of his forearm until it projected from his wrist. The blade came up and blocked the shot, then he swung the flat of the blade onto Scott's head. He fell.

Frank Murray, sergeant of the MRD, brought his humvee to a screeching halt as he spied the murderer. He was a muscular fellow with what appeared to be a machete projecting from his hand. Perhaps he was a meta human. He currently had a man with red sunglasses slung over his shoulder.

He and his squad spilled out of the vehicle, all of them flicking the safeties off of their M4A3s. Another hummer arrived, and three more officers joined the four already there.

They all took up positions as Private Owens, who was manning the humvee's .50 cal, shouted into the loudspeaker "Unidentified meta human. You are surrounded. Put the man down and put your hands in the air"

The suspect didn't say a word, instead carefully laying his cargo down and extending his right arm, the one that wasn't holding the blade. It seemed to collapse in on itself, twisting and morphing into…into what looked like minigun.

With a roar it fired, sawing the nearest MRD officer in half.

"Take cover" Murray screamed. The officers scattered, finding whatever meager cover they could. Once in position they eagerly returned fire, their carbines barking as they spewed hot lead at the meta human. Murray narrowed his eyes. Despite the barrage leveled at him the meta human seemed unaffected, instead methodically blowing apart each officer's cover and then shooting the man.

Apparently, Private Owens noticed too, for he swung the .50 cal around and started firing. This time there was some reaction. The meta human jerked about as the half inch slugs collided with it. It still kept firing though, undeterred.

The meta human extended his left middle finger, and Murray saw something streak out from the digit. A second later the other humvee exploded, taking two officers with it. The meta human turned to Murray's humvee.

"Scatter!" Murray howled. There was an explosion, but it wasn't the hummer. Something hit the meta human and exploded, blowing it to the side and down the street. Murray turned and saw an MRD sentry mecha, its recoilless rifle smoking. He saluted, and turned back to look at the meta human.

It was unmistakably fried. Murray stood up.

"Secure the body" he ordered, and two of the remaining officers ran forward to do so. He turned to the other two. "Take those two mutants back to base for processing"


	3. Chapter 2: The offer

_Cambridge MRD Headquarters, Cambridge, Massachusetts_

The holding cell was drab, to say the least. Concrete walls, concrete floor, a cot, and a toilet that was thankfully shielded from prying eyes by a curtain. Scott Summers tried to think positively about his current predicament. It wasn't working. _It could be worse, but not by much_ he thought to himself. The MRD could have at least washed the sheets of the cot, which smelled suspiciously of vomit.

Scott tried not to think about how badly his processing would go. 'Processing' was what the MRD called the ordeal of testing a mutant for control of his or her powers. Exactly what happened in the process Scott didn't know. What he did know was that some mutants had passed the battery of tests assigned to them and had been returned to their homes. Those who hadn't…well, Scott had seen a couple of those on his way in, mutants who had uncontrollable powers. Those poor souls were probably penned up somewhere near or in this station.

In any case, there was no way he was going to pass a test as far as control was concerned. It would all be over as soon as they figured out the exact nature of his powers.

Scott sighed. So close. He had been so close to graduating and living a normal life. It would have been just what the Professor had wanted. And then it had all fallen apart. If only that man hadn't attacked, he could have gotten away, maybe…Scott stopped himself. There was no point in reminiscing about what could have been. The only thing he could do now was face his future as Logan would have him do it: with a straight back and a determined heart.

Scott allowed himself a brief moment to wonder where his teammates were, and in what condition they were in. Whatever the MRD did with mutants, it probably didn't hold a candle next to what the bigots of the FOH did with their prisoners. If they ended up in the wrong hands, there was a very real possibility that they were dead.

He heard the jangling of keys followed by the sound of a key entering a lock. He quickly looked to the door to his cell. The door opened, and in strode two men wearing MRD uniforms.

The first to enter wore what looked like a senior officer's uniform. His face was lined, with intelligent eyes that looked like they were dissecting everything they saw. He looked to be in his early sixties. He stood ramrod straight, and moved with a certain economy about his movement.

The second was both taller and younger than his compatriot. His dark brown hair was cut in a military buzz. His eyes were a lighter brown, and also sparkled with intelligence. His build was lean but muscular, like a martial artists. Unlike his superior, he wore what looked like a complete set of combat armor with urban camouflage.

The older man looked at Scott appraisingly, then said "Come with me"

_Might as well get this over with_ Scott thought. He stood up, and followed the older man out of the room and down the hallway. The armored soldier closed the door after him and followed.

The further they went, the more confused Scott became. Instead of heading outside, to the gym, or even to the cells, they walked past the reception area of the building and into the offices. They passed cubicles and other, larger offices. As they passed they received some odd looks from the other MRD staff, but other than that there was no reaction.

They walked into a hall with doors on either side. At the end was a door marked _Director_. The older man in front proceeded to open it and walk inside.

The room wasn't impressive, aside from the plaques and degrees mounted on the wall. A desk sat in front of a window with a swivel chair behind it. Two chairs sat in front of the desk.

There was already another person in the room, a woman. Despite her apparent youth her sharp features and glasses gave the impression of a stern headmistress. Her build was willowy, nearly devoid of feminine curves. Her brown hair ended an inch above her shoulders. She was the only person aside from Scott who wasn't in an MRD uniform, instead opting for a dark grey pencil skirt and white blouse, with knee high stockings. She was currently examining some kind of device which she held in her hands.

The older man waited until they were all inside and the door was shut. He then turned to the woman and asked "Are we alone?"

The woman nodded, and moved out from behind the desk. The older man took the swivel chair and motioned for Scott to take a seat. Scott did so, feeling fairly sure that this was not the usual processing procedure.

The older man stared at him for a moment, then said "So you're Scott Summers"

Scott said nothing, simply staring at him.

"My name is Colonel Gerald Knox, MRD. The man behind you is Lieutenant Jack Maturin, Navy SEAL. And this here" he said, pointing to the woman, "is Tara Huckabee"

Scott shot a look at the lieutenant, who nodded at him. Ms. Huckabee did nothing as she was introduced.

"I've come to you with a proposition" Knox said.

"I'm listening" Scott replied attentively. This whole business had a cloak and dagger feel about it, but it may just allow him to escape the MRD.

"As you doubtlessly know, the MRD was originally created to apprehend mutant criminals and other mutants who were a danger to the public. It was a necessary step, but we were ill prepared for it" The colonel looked at Scott seriously. "The FOH made things difficult from the start. Between the mutants they provoked and their own actions they've done nothing but worsen the human-mutant situation. Then there are the Apocalypse Cults, especially those with mutant members. The president isn't the only one whose been killed by them. There's also Cryptech and HYDRA, as well as Mr. Sinister"

"Mr. Sinister is real?" Scott asked, surprised.

Knox snorted. "Yes, he is very real. We don't know much about him other than he and his Marauders are intent on capturing mutants. The upshot of it is we are fighting a losing battle"

Knox paused, apparently to let that fact settle in. He then said "So far the MRD has refrained from hiring mutants. It's a stupid policy, but it's one that the MRD is adhering to. It's not working" he finished bluntly.

Scott began to have an idea of what this man wanted. "You want to recruit me?" he asked, almost incredulous.

Knox frowned, probably at Scott's tone. "Yes, I do, but not in the conventional way"

"Then no" Scott said firmly.

"And why not" Knox asked, still appearing calm.

Scott gave him a look that was probably wasted due to his shades. "You're the MRD. How many mutants have you locked up because of something they can't control? How many children have you torn from their parent's arms? What do you even do with the mutants you capture anyway? Send them to concentration camps? Why on earth would I work for you?"

"Because we're fighting the good fight" Knox snapped. "And because the world is going to hell in a hog cart" he stopped himself, and seemed to take a moment to calm down. He then said "The MRD was created to be the enforcement branch of the Department of Mutant Affairs. That means it was supposed to protect mutants and help them as well as contain those that were deemed a threat. Now I know the MRD isn't perfect, but the fact remains that we are the only legitimate branch that can deal with mutants. And with the current situation, this is the best we can do"

Knox paused, then continued on a different topic. "I know what Xavier was trying to do" he said, his voice becoming quieter.

"How would you know?" Scott asked.

"That's classified. In any case, Xavier did what no one had done before: he assembled a team of trained mutants. A team like that, the X men, could have taken on anything"

Scott did not like where this man's description of his mentor's efforts was going. "He took in mutants and taught them how to control their powers, how to use them for good. He wasn't some wannabe world conqueror, he actually cared about us!" he said vehemently.

The colonel raised his hands defensively. "I know that. He was the Martin Luther King Jr. of mutants. Well, almost. He still gave you combat training that rivaled commando training"

Scott had no answer to that. Knox continued "I'm not saying it was a bad thing. Like you said, he trained you to use your powers for good. With a team like the X men, the world was a better place. And that's what I'm looking for"

Scott looked at him sourly. "If you want the X men then you're about five years too late. They were all captured by the FOH"

"Everyone but you" Knox pointed out. "And that's all I need"

Scott looked at him appraisingly. He was still suspicious, but this man was either a very good actor or he was telling the truth. Scott decided it was the latter. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

Knox smiled. "I want you to reform the X men" he said.

Scott looked at him quizzically. Knox elaborated. "You are the last free member of Xavier's team. I want you to do what Xavier did and form a team of mutants."

"Working for the MRD?" Scott asked.

"Unofficially, yes" Knox admitted, "But you would be more under the category of sponsored vigilantes. The MRD will give you support, both financial and military, and it will be willing to ignore some activities. Granted, you will still be receiving orders from us. But you would be operating under a certain level of independence, allowing you to use more creative and less conventional methods to neutralize threats"

Scott nodded as he took it in, then settled back in his chair to think. As he did so, Knox said "The country needs the X men Summers. Heck, the world needs them"

Scott tried to think of a reason not to do it. The message Xavier had left him had told him to lie low and live as normal a life as he could. But the Xavier Scott had known would have wanted Scott to make a difference, to use his powers for the good of humans and mutants alike. And after five years of doing nothing after being trained to do the opposite, Scott Summers was ready to step up.

"I'll do it" he said.

Knox's face broke into a smile. "Excellent" he said. "Now, before we continue there are some things you should understand. First, the brass really doesn't like this idea, so they will come down on you hard for results. I'll try to delay them as long as I can, but expect them to start assigning missions soon.

"Second, I've taken the liberty of assigning two of our best operatives to your team: the lieutenant and Ms. Huckabee. I think you'll find their skills to be invaluable"

Scott turned in his seat to face them. Maturin nodded. Huckabee didn't as much as blink. Scott stood and offered his hand to the SEAL. "Scott Summers" he said.

Maturin took it. "Lieutenant Jack Maturin"

"If I can ask, what is your mutation?" Scott asked.

Before the lieutenant could answer, Knox said "Maturin is a human, but" he grinned "His marksmanship is practically mutant"

Scott nodded. The navy SEAL said "Don't worry. I can keep up with mutants"

"My apologies" Scott said.

Maturin waved it away. "You're fine"

Scott turned to Huckabee, who merely stated "Tara Huckabee. Government researcher. Mutant"

"What's your mutation?" Scott asked again.

"Eidetic memory. I remember everything I've ever experienced"

"Huckabee will be your analyst, along with whatever other data related tasks you give her" Knox said.

"Sounds good" Scott said. _Of course_ he thought privately. The old man wanted at least one insider on this group. But then again, Scott couldn't blame him. It was a very risky thing that he was proposing.

"Oh, and one more thing" the colonel said, fixing Scott with a gaze as intense as his own optic beams. "There's something I want you to understand. This is not an opportunity for you to go crusading until your teammates are all free. If you do find one of your teammates and convince him or her to join you, more power to you. But your priorities are your orders. Is that understood?"

Scott was less than pleased about this. He tried to think of a way to circumvent it, but came up with no viable options. At last he said "Very well"

Knox grinned. "Then welcome back Cyclops"

…

Gavin lounged in his cell, utterly defeated. The X men were gone and he was a prisoner of the MRD. Back in Scotland he had thought that America would be the a refuge for him, a place where some would welcome him for what he was, not fear him or try to use him. But apparently America was just as bad as his old home.

Gavin looked up as he heard footsteps outside his cell. He looked up to see three figures standing outside, two men and one woman. The man in front opened his cell door.

"Still want to be an X man?" asked Cyclops.


End file.
